


Chasing Sweeter Dreams

by SolitaryViolence



Category: Nyan~ Neko Sugar Girls
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Derealization, Dissociation, Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, Karaoke, M/M, Obsession, Past Kidnapping, Shame, Songfic, Stalking, brief mention of binge eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29596494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolitaryViolence/pseuds/SolitaryViolence
Summary: With Bokutachi-san's help, Hitoshi-san embarks on a journey of self-acceptance.
Relationships: Bokutachi-san/Hitoshi-san (Nyan~ Neko Sugar Girls)
Kudos: 6





	Chasing Sweeter Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> this is how i cope with my suicidal ideation. it's short and sweet, like the actual episodes. enjoy.
> 
> also! think of the karaoke bars in the sims 4 when reading. it's not one with separate booths x
> 
> big up if you recognise the song

That first bit of alcohol running down his parched throat seems to numb his every sense within an instant. The bustling karaoke bar’s rowdy inhabitants fade into a heady blur, their utterances muffled beyond comprehension — like some sort of filter has washed over them, separating the heart from the hubbub. He lets his eyes close, and the whole world damps itself down to but a hum of background noise, reminding Hitoshi-san that he’s _alive_. This has always been a way to forget the feelings he tries his very utmost to repress. To deny, even. Getting tipsy, pouring his heart out through song, getting pissed and getting kicked out, then onto the next bar and so on so forth until he awakes in some godawful place he has no memory of getting to, then sheepishly plods back home.

A vicious circle, really. God knows what Raku-chan and Koneko-chan would think if they knew — or anyone else, for that matter. He shudders at the mere thought.

It’s gotten worse ever since...well, ever since the abduction. He can’t stop thinking about those soft brown locks framing that demurely overshadowed face. Those piercing blue eyes seeming to look through to his very soul. Those plump lips curled into a perfectly sinister smirk. That oh-so _tight_ black turtleneck hugging the man’s slender frame. Those leather pants and the outline of what lies beneath...oh, it’s no wonder Kidnapper-kun has been paying Hitoshi-san’s daydreams quotidian visits. At this point, the latter wonders if he could have developed Stockholm syndrome or perhaps something similar. He swears he’s seeing him in places he shouldn’t be.

Heaving a deep sigh, he opens his scarlet-coloured eyes, tuning himself back into reality. He takes another swig, then limply returns his glass to the table at which he sits. More than half-empty already. Hitoshi-san’s always been the indulgent type. Drink away the shame, fuck away the shame, eat away the shame — it’s all the same to him. Alas, attempting to absolve himself in these abject ways only makes the guilt burn stronger, yet he never seems to learn. He’ll always come crawling back to the bottle, or the nightclub, or the supermarket as if his life depends on it, in the vain hope that one day it will stop. One day, he will make peace with himself and accept the way he is. One day, things will change for the better.

But tonight is as bleak as ever. He empties his glass without words, and within the next ten minutes, finds himself at the microphone. His song of choice’s oddly nostalgic instrumental intro pulses through his ears, shaking him to the core. The floor beneath him vibrates with its intensity, and once more, he shuts his eyes and lets the world fade away, losing himself in the music. He draws in a breath to prepare himself, then lets it go along with those first few lyrics:  
“ _Baka mitai_ ,” he begins, gazing upon his surroundings once more, though not taking any of their lurid, neon detail in. “ _Kodomo na no ne._ ”  
Stifling a wry laugh, he grimaces. Foolish indeed, he thinks himself — lusting after a psychopath! There must be something wrong with him. Well, other than the obvious, that is.  
“ _Yume wo otte kidzutsuite._ ”

From a shadowy corner of the bar, a man smiles to himself, leaning against the wall with crossed arms as he listens intently. Oh, he certainly has been chasing his dreams. If only Hitoshi-san knew what they consisted of...

“ _Uso ga,_ ” Hitoshi-san lets his eyes roam slowly, “ _heta na kuse ni._ ”

_What a voice_ , the man muses, his own eyes narrowing. He wonders just how high it can get. Or, rather, how high he can _make_ it get. He already knows he’s sufficiently loud...

“ _Waraenai egao miseta._ ”

Purposefully, he forces away his rapidly-growing grin, reminding himself he must blend in. Still, he readily indulges his idées noires, envisioning those frightfully blue strands of hair tangled around his fingers in the heat of passion. _How high can you scream, Hitoshi-san? How long must I wait to have you? I came so close, and I would’ve gotten away with it if not for those asinine girls..._

“ _‘I love you’ mo-_ ”

Abruptly, the vocals stop. Hitoshi-san’s mouth hangs open, and for a second, he thinks he’s surely hallucinating. But, oh, he couldn’t be more wrong.

It’s _him_ , he realises, over in that corner. Undoubtedly. The same pitch-black outfit. The same gorgeous, nitid eyes. The same unshorn, dusky tresses.

Kidnapper-kun.

Wordlessly, the pair exchange gazes, a hundred disorderly thoughts rushing through their brains.

_Is it really you? Why are you here? Have you been following me? What the hell do you want from me? Is this some kind of sick game you’re playing? And oh, my god, why are you so attractive?_

_So, you’ve noticed. Finally. You can’t deny me now. I could’ve long ago throttled out your life, but I haven’t, have I? Surely, that means something? Surely, you’ll realise that all I desire is your undivided affection?_

“I-I apologise,” Hitoshi-san stammers into the mic, then takes to his heels posthaste.  
Kidnapper-kun tenses up as his crush approaches. He holds his breath, his expression belying impassivity. People are staring, but he couldn’t care less about their foolish opinions. They’ll find something else to gawk at in a minute, as humans always do. Capricious little things.  
“It’s you,” Hitoshi-san all but whimpers, stilling himself before the black-clad brunet. _Why am I doing this? Shouldn’t I be running?_  
“...My name,” Kidnapper-kun begins, trying to ease both their nerves, “is Bokutachi-san.”  
“Hitoshi-san,” the other man mumbles, his eyes finally returning to their natural state as they look _Bokutachi-san_ up and down. “In case you didn’t know. Nya. Rawr~” he adds nervously.  
“My~, blushing already?” the brunet taunts, returning the shameless gesture.  
“Wh-what do you want from me?”  
“Mm~” he hums, deepening Hitoshi-san’s blush, “let me think. No, actually, I don’t have to. Your respect. Your affection.”  
“My-”  
“Oh, hush!”  
Bokutachi-san takes a step forward, and Hitoshi-san reflexively starts, yet doesn’t shy away. Just the sight of his abductor before him again enkindles such eidetic memories. As Bokutachi-san leans in closer, Hitoshi-san can almost _feel_ those ropes coiled around his abdomen again, squeezing out his breath...  
“You on your knees for me,” the former whispers, lacing his words with lascivity.  
“O-oh,” Hitoshi-san gets out, frozen in place. That same sense of helplessness he felt during their first encounter surges through him, and he finds it curiously... _pleasant_.  
Bokutachi-san smirks and draws even closer, wrapping an arm around Hitoshi-san’s waist. Hitoshi-san hasn’t the strength to resist. And why should he? After all, he knows in his heart that...  
“I want _you_ , Hitoshi-san. I want it to be just the two of us. It’s in the name — _Bokutachi_.”  
He gulps. Bokutachi-san stares him down so intensely, as if silently daring him to reject these advances. The very thought of being with this...this _creep_ he should find abhorrent, but...

Every other man he’s been with he’s considered a drunken mistake. He’s regretted each one in the morning, and felt utterly _rotten_ for allowing himself to behave like such a profligate. Yet, Bokutachi-san is different. He makes Hitoshi-san’s kokoro feel like it’s about to burst with but a look. He’s sultry and enticing and handsome and...well, who wouldn’t want more?

But this is _wrong_ , Hitoshi-san reminds himself!

“B-but,” he begins, lowering his gaze, “men aren’t supposed to...”  
“Be happy with one another?” Bokutachi-san all but sneers. “Don’t deny your feelings, Hitoshi. I can tell you want me all the same.”  
“Bold of you to assume that I-”  
“Don’t,” he cuts him off. “I see it in the way you look at me. In the way you lean into my touch. Your body language says it all. Just _accept_ how you feel.”  
“Don’t you think it’s wrong? For us to be together? I-I mean-”  
“You really believe that bullshit?”  
“B-besides the...” Hitoshi-san continues, beginning to second-guess himself, “...the moral implications, isn’t it...well, y’know, unnatural?”  
“Unnatural? Two people loving one another?”  
He runs a hand through his hair, briefly breaking eye contact once again. “You’re very forward...”  
“You like that in a man,” Bokutachi-san adds archly.  
“I don’t l-” Hitoshi-san instinctively begins, then realises there’s no point denying anything. “Okay, I do, but...”  
“I don’t blame you for believing what they’ve taught you,” the brunet says softly, taking a step back and releasing his erstwhile captive from his hold. “If you need some time to think, I can leave you be.”  
“No!” Hitoshi-san objects, pulling Bokutachi-san closer in a pseudo-embrace. “Stay.”  
The latter’s eyes dart around, yet they find no prying gazes. Content, their owner returns the gesture. “I promise this is okay,” he begins sotto voce as he pushes their foreheads together. “You don’t need to feel ashamed about something that isn’t your fault.”  
“I just...”  
“We have all the time in the world to figure this out. Don’t worry.”  
“Can I, um...” Hitoshi-san stutters, his gaze lingering on his abductor’s lips.  
“Hm?” Bokutachi-san asks encouragingly.  
“Can I kiss you?”  
His heart skips a beat. For a moment, he wonders if hes dreaming again. “...Yes,” he gets out eventually. “Of course.”  
Against his better judgement, his better nature, his intelligence, and all things within the realm of decency, Hitoshi-san leans in and lets their lips meet. His eyelids flutter shut, and he simply wallows in the festering feelings of guilt as they slowly move their lips against one another. He’s been conjuring up this moment in his thoughts for so long. Now it’s actually happening, it feels...of course it feels wrong, but simultaneously he _knows_ it to be so, so very _right_. The kiss is gentle and indulgent and, oh, it lasts for an eternity, yet ends far too soon.  
“Did that feel unnatural?” Bokutachi-san asks after he pulls away.  
“No,” Hitoshi-san says breathily.  
“Did you like it?”  
“Yes,” he confirms, barely able to fathom these satyric sentiments smouldering within. “I want _more_. I want...”  
“Go on,” Bokutachi-san urges.  
“I want to be with you,” Hitoshi-san spits out before he can change his mind.  
Bokutachi-san smiles. “That was all I needed to hear.”  
And with that, they pull each other into another kiss.


End file.
